For many of us, checking social media has become the first and last thing we do in our day-to-day routine. On Instagram, Snapchat, and Twitter we scroll endlessly to see what the rest of the world is up to. We check our accounts to see who’s liked our posts, who’s followed or unfollowed us, all while we were supposed to be living our actual lives we’re supposedly documenting. Social media has become a form of self-validation and entertainment all in one. And through this fascination, a new concept has emerged: the Finsta or “fake Instagram” account.
Although the Finsta account has been an online presence for a couple of years now, it remains a mysterious platform. For those who are not familiar, a Finsta is a second Instagram account that targets a smaller, more private audience. Almost like a diary of images in a sense — or rather one filled with unapologetic selfies, trashy memes, and tell-all posts.
The first time I heard of a Finsta I thought my friend was joking. “Why would you post about something embarrassing, like a screenshot of a conversation you’re having on Tinder or a confession that you’d hooked up with an ex ?” I vowed I would never get one. But I did not object to following the Finstas of my friends. Their accounts opened a world of intimacy and entertainment. They posted memes and selfies with long-winded paragraphs about their most personal moments. No longer did I have to wait for a weekly dinner to get the tea on their sex life, I could just open up Instagram and scroll. Then, everything changed.
In the early days of summer, I ran into a guy I had my eye on all semester from school. We were at a rooftop party held by a mutual friend. We both bonded over a mutual love for rolled joints, and mutual distaste in the party’s playlist. We hung out together the whole night. Needless to say, we hit it off.
The next morning a wave of anxiety hit me. I hadn’t liked someone in a while. Dating in a generation whose eyes and attention are fixated on their phones is hard enough, but add living in New York City to the mix and it’s nearly impossible to find someone who fits perfectly within your ridiculously busy schedule.  I felt weird, like I had a bad case of romantic FOMO. I didn’t want to mess this up. I felt like I needed to disclose my emotions, but was scared I might come off too strong. I needed an outlet.
So I logged onto Instagram, started to scroll, and realized maybe it was time to invest in a Finsta. It would be the perfect arena to disclose, confide, and release the intense emotions I had for someone I barely knew. And so my “fake Instagram” account was born.
I started following my friends and posting memes that coincided with my emotions. When I asked for advice, my Finsta following gave it. When I needed support, my following sent positive comments and emojis. And then it hit me: social media apps have become so integral that they’re now a normal outlet for disclosing our emotions. In 2018 it seems almost natural that we would resort to creating Finstas to document the most intimate parts of our lives.
For me, creating a Finsta account helped channel the anxiety I had about liking someone. That release of dopamine I got from posting and having a support system of faithful followers made me feel at ease with my feelings. Soon my feed became littered with astrology memes and embarrassing anecdotes of my day, and of course, an occasional post about the anxiety I got from a romantic pursuit.
The romance between the guy from the rooftop quickly fizzled, but through our interaction, I realized our generation’s fascination with Finsta accounts. There is something about Finstas that reveal a more real, unfiltered reality we often don’t see when we unlock our phones. I teeter back and forth on what to make of Finstas, honestly. On the one hand, it is a platform that has opened up a realm of privacy between friends never experienced before. While it can be used to check up on a friend’s mental health, a crowd-source for sexual advice, an arena of support for the tense times we live in today, at the end of the day we must remember, like a regular Instagram account, it is just another illusion — made out of signals and thousands of tiny pixels we can receive and send. Nothing more.